Dark Side of the Rainbow
by SkinIsACanvas
Summary: The frontman for Jack and the Rippers is a blue eyed lady-killer indulging in the dark life of sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll. In order to capture the stubborn Lisa Reisert, he sucks her into a world of blackmail, violence, and his twisted sense of entitlement. Rockstar AU.
1. Chapter 1

The staunch smell of sweat and booze filled Jackson's nostrils as he walked out and faced the crowd. His charisma carried him to the microphone dead center in the middle of the stage. This was his throne, it made him king. These people, they paid money out of their own shallow pockets to see him and three other drunken guys dance around on a dirty stage with instruments they barely know how to play. And their desperation for new material and a big performance, their desperation for _him_ made him their god.

"Jack! Jack! Jack!" he hungry crowd screamed as soon as they glimpsed him walking.

Jackson cringed, he hated that nickname with a passion. At first, Jackson Rippner was just a stage name, just a joke. But it had slowly become him and Jack was just the shredded remnant of his pathetic past. Time didn't take away the sting of being reminded, no matter how buzzed he began every show.

"Hey, Miami!" Jackson slurred, though his effort to sound enthusiastic was immense. "How are you doing tonight?!" His effort slowed though his volume didn't lower. "Welcome to Hell!"

He took a swig from the beer that was clenched in his hand as tightly as the microphone was as his voice was drowned out as the crowd roared, revved up and ready to hear the lyrics he wrote on napkins in the middle of he night when the pills weren't enough and his girl of the night was asleep. The guitars slammed on and his mind and body went to autopilot and he was free for the next few hours.

Just before his mind shut off for the set, he thought one thing that might send him to a certain psychiatrist again:

He was a lowlife and he was loving it.

"Where the hell are you going?" Tyler's voice boomed in Jackson's ear as he walked out of the door.

Jackson didn't even look back as he swung one leg over his motorcycle and put on him helmet, hiding his expressions from his band mate. The show had ended about twenty minutes and already, Jackson was feeling stifled by the low that had come after the high of the adrenaline during the show. It was that point that he was looking for anyway anywhere that would keep that high up for another while before he fell asleep or the morning came. Whichever happened first.

"Manager says you gotta be there to sign shit for the fans. You missed the last one and boss wasn't so happy." Tyler insisted and went to put a hand on Jackson's shoulder. He had second thoughts and his arm fell limp to his side.

"Tell him I got sick. Puking my intestines out in the bathroom again. Believable, isn't it?" Jackson shrugged and took his lighter, flicking it on and off so he didn't need to face Tyler's skeptical face.

"You don't mean that, Jackson. I know you don't. You never lie."

He had a point, he really did. And Jackson almost felt a pang of guilt when he heard those words. Almost.

"Fine. Tell him I had to run. Important business. Nothing he needs to stick his fat nose into." Jackson said, his voice hardening at the mention of his manager. Tyler took it easy n that subject, there was an obvious animosity between the two opposing men.

"Sure. Just don't kill yourself, man. None of the rest of us have a pair of pipes like you do." Tyler's hand pats Jackson's shoulder before he starts to walk away. "and we can't have the Rippers without out Jack."

The oddly comforting words stay with Jackson as he takes off on his motorcycle, racing through traffic with a dangerous speed and more liquor in his system than to go unnoticed by authorities for too long. It was a fuckin miracle he'd gotten his fa without them on his tail.

Until his swerve got a little too, well... swervy, and the red and blue flashing lights with their accompanying alarm sent him straight to the side of the road. The profanities that left his mouth would make a sailor blush with embarrassment.

"Hello, Officer... Reisert." Jackson slurred, sounding ten times more intoxicated than he was. If he was going to be caught, he might as well go all out. Live.

The middle aged officer's lips formed a straight line of disappointment as he assessed Jackson in front of him. Joe Reisert was a man with high hopes for humanity that saw the worst in the breed most of the time. But that didn't stop him. He couldn't leave his daughter in a world he thought would ruin her, no matter how many times she had already been tainted.

"Sir, have you been drinking?" Joe asked Jackson, perturbed by the parasitic grin that played on the younger man's lips while his blue eyes did all the real talking. Joe already pegged him as a guy who would barely be scratched by an arrest or a DUI. He'd have bail money within the hour.

"Yes, sir. Yes, I have. Would you like something? I've got..."

And that's all Jackson could say before he found himself in the back of the cop car with Officer Joe Reisert and his daughter, Lisa, in the front.

"Have you thought of doing something with these?" Jackson asked, holding up the handcuffs and shaking them around. "They're horrendous and completely clash with my outfit."

"Really? It seems to fit quite well with your personality?" Lisa retorted, staring Jackson in the eye. It wasn't brave and it wasn' fearless. It was a facade, and she looked as though she were pulling back into herself. Why she spoke, Jackson couldn't figure out.

"Leese, don't talk to him." Joe told her sternly, though a fatherly concern in his tone. He was glad his little girl didn't get mixed p with men like this.

"Leese, you might want to listen to your dad. He's got the right idea about guys like me." Jackson said, hoping to get her to turn around so he could see her once more. She did and he gave her a little wink with his powerful eyes, knowing that she was captured in that one look. No one could resist his eyes. Jackson, the one with the blue eyes, the one with the power. That's who he was.

She was Lisa, the one with the red hair and the tortured soul, the one with the scar on her chest that she hadn't noticed he could see. She was Lisa Resiert, Officer Joe Reisert's daughter.

And he was in the back of the cop car. But he was curious about her.

They were pretty much locked in a consistent staring contest for the next moments, as if they were predator and prey in reversed roles. Even with the handcuffs, he had put her under his spell. Or at least he thought he had. When he thought about it too much, he could almost convince himself that she was trying to be tough, like her father. Trying to scare him away from her.

Oh no, they couldn't have that.

"Don't flirt with my daughter." Joe's voice thundered in the car and Jackson jumped, startles. Maybe he really did have too much to drink.

"Yes, sir." Jackson cursed the fact that he could only shove so much sarcasm into those two words.

But he was still curious about her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Red Eye or anyone involved except for my OC's. A list will come later.**

Jackson found himself in a hotel room in the morning with the pounding headache that was a painful constant in his life. The events of the night before were blurry, another constant that he couldn't seem to care too much about. A few nameless girls and some insensitive insults could o nothing to damage his pride. As far as Jackson was concerned, he was a fucking god. And a god knew how to get what he wanted.

The memories he did retain from the night before didn't include the holding cell or being bailed out or the lecture from Tyler about his well being.

_"Jack, you're falling to hell and you might as well take a hammer to your head if you're not gonna do a damn thing about it!" Tyler screamed on the ride back._

_ "Hell's where we always wanted to end up, numbskull. We go to hell every night during every so. And don't think you get away with those girls every night and just as much booze as the rest of us." Jackson's voice was as cold as his eyes, glassed over with oblivion. "Fuckin' hypocrite."_

_ He didn't miss the blush that framed Tyler's face. A smirk crept up on his face._

_ "Well, you look like Hell, Jack. And you smell worse. Would it kill you to brush your teeth once in a while?" _

_ "Satan doesn't brush his teeth."_

_ "You're not Satan, Jackson. You're human. You arent' invincible."_

_ "Screw that. I'm pretty invincible." Jakcson retorted, holding his head high even as fatigue pulled at the corner of his hardened eyes. "And you're no angel."_

But, of course, he didn't remember any of that. Not until Tyler grilled him for it for the next few weeks at the least.

But he did remember that girl. Lisa, that cop called her. Lisa Reisert, if he could assume that she was the cop's daughter. Her eyes were too sad to be a gold digger or a sugar baby. It was rare ro see eyes so filled with sorrow, especially bcause it was masked so well.

But he knew that look. He knew it because he wore that look when backs werw turned and no one was looking. His blue eyes fell to the ground and he couldn't find the enegy to keep them up. Those sad eyes, that's he had.

That's what she had. And she was unforgettable.

Lisa yawned and sretched as she was roused from her dream state by her father cooking breakfast in the kitchen. The couch had caused some kinks in her back but that wasn't a big deal. Don't sweat the small stuff and dell on the big stuff, that's how she lived.

The clothes from yesterday were stale and wrinkled, feeling uncomfortable after the night of sleep. They felt old and unpure, slightly damp from the sheen of sweat she donned from the Florida heat.

Lisa's feet dragged on the floor as she rubbed the crusts from her eyes, taking in the smell of the scrambled eggs that aaited in the kitchen. There was Joe, looking slightly too cheerful for this early in the morning.

"Morning, sunshine." Joe smiled as he put some eggs onto the plate and handed it to her with a spin. "Glad you spent the night, just like old times."

The crinkles around his eyes showed her how genuine the old man could be. Even through the things he had seen, he still possessed the happy outlook that she only wished she could have maintained.

"Thanks, Dad. It's nice to be back in the house" Lisa shrugged and took a bite. It was almost like old times, back in high school. Things weren't necessarily better but they were definitely a hundred times simpler.

"Why didn't you change? I have some of your old clothes in your room. Probably would still fit you." Joe suggested, frowning slightly as the overprotective father side came out.

"Guess I was tired. Your job is quite tiring and I wasn't even the one doing anything." Lisa said, giving her dad a playful smile to reassure his worries. It could get quite annoying at times but she knew her dad meant well with his worries. However, Lisa wanted to break away from it desperately which could often lead her into intense bouts of rebellion. They never lasted long and the consequences were usually not long lasting, but they caused much grief for those involved around her.

"I know one thing's for sure, I do not want to become a cop." Lisa said, laughing to herself. "No offense."

"Tha boy that we picked up. The one drunk driving. You remember him?" Joe asked her, raising his eyebrows in a seriousness that he could only ahcieve while stressing over Lisa's well being.

She knew where this was going. It had always been this way. It was endearing as a child how her dad was so protctive. But she was no longer a teenager. She had blossomed into an adult who knew how to take care of herself. The boy talk was something she needed to take into her own hands now.

"Yes, I remember him. The one with the bue eyes." Lisa nodded, raising her own eyebrows in response.

"Stay away from him. And boys like him. They aren't good for you. You saw what you could happen." he said and Lisa nodded, saying silent as to not let her irritation shine through. "I just worry about you, baby girl." Joe placed a kiss on the top of her head.

He left the room to take care of something, something about a strongly worded e-mail to the agency of blah, blah, blah...

Something felt heavy in the pocket of her sweathshurt, making her frown as she reached into her pocket to pick up a piece of paper. The top of it said Jackson, follwed by what she assumed was his phone number.

Hr immediate thought was to throw it away and not think twice about it. Bu a voice nagged in the back of her head, the one that led her through her teenage years, the one that made her excited.

Slowly, Lisa pocketed the piece of paper and vowed to call him. The drunk driving mess of a man he was. Not anything serious. Just to spite her father. A bit of rebellion to show her fathe that if he was going to treat her like a teenager, she was going to act like one.

Don't sweat the small stuff. Dwell on the big stuff.

**Author's Note: A slow start for this story. I've been busy the past few days but I wanted to update with something, even just a filler. It will pick up as it ges along and I apologize for the slowness of the beginning!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Red Eye!**

"Well, hey there, beautiful."  
Lisa jumped, her auburn curls bouncing as her body reacts to the surprise of the sound of Jackson's voice. Her long legs take a minute to become stable as she rises from the front steps of her father's house.  
"Hey." Lisa says, approaching Jackson as he kills the engine of his motorcycle. Her eyes flit all over the place, looking for him and finding anything but his crystalline eyes. The blush on her cheeks is a telltale mark of innocent nervousness.  
Jackson can only chuckle. Innocence is only temporary. Especially around him.  
"Hop on then." Jackson encouraged.  
His fingers found her chin and brought her towards him, coaxing her eyes to meet his in an assertive manner only men like him could make charming. It was a dangerous charm that could be found in back alleys and bars but never in the presence of a cop's kid like her. This was suicide.  
Lisa obediently swung one leg over the bike with a little help of her new friend. It was a new feeling but she swallowed the nerves and shoved them back into her stomach with the butterflies.  
"Where are you taking me?"  
"You'll see."  
"I need an answer." Her firmness surprised her.  
A well placed eye roll, playful. "How about a ride around? Let's see where we end up."  
Lisa didn't miss his wink as he dodged the question. It raised a red alarm in her head but she ignored it. It was only the paranoid habits that her dad instilled in her.  
"Alright. Let's see then."  
She kicked herself for it.  
The engine roared to life and she was off on her first motorcycle ride with a stranger who had been in the back of a cop car the night before.

-Break-

The wind in Jackson's hair felt like home but he knew that Lisa was less than thrilled by the feel of her tenseness behind him. Her hold on his torso was too tight to be casual and he could tell she was afraid. Jack didn't get it. But to each their own, he always figured.  
The highways had unwritten novels of blank pages for him, each car with their own stories. It's something he thinks about a lot, being one of the more notorious that travels the highway on a constant basis. The heartbreak and happiness contained in a simple space is mindblowing. Jackson knows by the spectrum of circumstances he's known the paths.  
But Lisa doesn't know any of it.  
Jackson eventually takes her off the highway into a place he has no idea about. The only thing to do now is drive until he finds somewhere to go, get gas or something. He wasn't a spectacular planner.  
"I need the bathroom." Lisa said, closer to his ear than he expected.  
"Hold on..." Jackson groaned as he searched for a gas station.  
A shitty little place on the side of the road, perfect to stop for a bit and get has though it looked a little bit shadier than Jackson would have liked. A normal hangout for a lowlife like him but a little too dirty for a pretty little fling like Lisa.  
"How about here?" Jackson asked, craning his head to look at her.  
"Sure." Lisa was off in less than a second, practically dancing her way to the bathroom.  
Jackson got off the bike and walked around a little, shaking out his legs and ignoring the hard stares of the other patrons, scum looking guys who could probably take him out in a minute.  
He lit a cig and waited for Lisa to come out, silently cursing her for her needs. Of course, this had to be the nearest place. Granted, he was surprised that she called him at all and he wasn't doing so well with the date, he didn't even know where to take her!  
"It reeks like Satan's ass." Jack cursed, disgruntled as he let out a good puff of smoke. "Fuckin' disgusting and coming from me, that's a real damn accomplishment."  
"Hey!" A gruff voice caught his attention. A burly man with bulk and muscle was heading his way, flanked by two smaller yet still intimidating cronies. "Who are you to come on my turf and insult the likes of me and my friends?"  
Jackson didn't answer but puffed his chest out when confronted to make himself a bit bigger. Granted, he was a pretty lanky guy and it didn't do much to help his case.  
The guy pushed him back, making Jackson stumble backwards. He was surprised and his mind raced. "Big guy pickin' on the smaller guy? Isn't that how it works in the movies?" Jackson asked. "Big bad wolf, king of the gas station."  
"Scram, you fucking punk."  
Jackson didn't need to be told twice. Within a second, he was back on his back and leaving skid marks on the ground in his haste to get his ass outta there.  
At that point, he couldn't care less how Lisa made out.

-Break-

Lisa wiped her hands on her pants, finding no paper towels in the small bathroom. She wasn't surprised, really.

She wasn't surprised about Jackson either. He was attractive, but she already knew that. Anyone with eyes could see that. But he wasn't particularly interesting or riveting. He was dangerous with half-assed charm, but he seemed pretty disinterested. They'd barely spoken a word, only at red lights for a few fleeting moments before she was suffocated by the wind on that bike again.  
The date was a one time thing, she decidedly wouldn't be seeing him again. Too much of a risk and not much of a reward, not worth spitting her father.  
She pushed the heavy door of the gas station bathroom open and went outside, expecting to find Jackson waiting for her.  
But all she saw was the back of him riding off in his motorcycle.  
Gone.

**A/N: Sorry it took me forever to update! I've had writer's block and have been busy working on a comic book and everything. I just wanted to get a little something out before I really get back into it. Hope it's alright.**

**Thank you to my reviewers! You invigorate me to continue the story. So thank you thsnk you thank you!**


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